


Technical Difficulties

by TW Lewis (gardendoor)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-10
Updated: 2005-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 07:23:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardendoor/pseuds/TW%20Lewis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes a lot to make Simon ask for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technical Difficulties

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: Pet Fly owns them, I’m just borrowing them. This story contains graphic homosexual situations, so if that squicks you, stop here!

Simon opened the door in his bathrobe, clearly upset. “What the hell took you so long?”

“I got here as fast as I could, man; what’s wrong? You sounded pretty upset on the phone. Are you sure Jim--”

“No! I don’t want Jim to know anything about this. I wouldn’t even have asked you, but it was either you or the emergency room.”

“Emergency room?” Blair asked. “What did you _do_?”

Simon ushered Blair inside, his dark skin suffused with a humiliated blush. “I figure you know something about, you know...”

“No, I _don’t_ know!” said Blair. “Tribal initiation rites? Campus counterculture? Exotic foods? What?”

Simon gritted his teeth. “I tried ... playing ... with something, and it got stuck.”

“Stuck?” Light dawned on Marble Head. “Ohhhh, _stuck_. You mean like a butt plug or something? Why don’t you pull it out?”

“Well, there’s a problem with that, Sandburg,” said Simon. He led Blair to the bedroom, legs noticeably splayed now that Blair knew what he was looking at, and handed him a round blue-green latex disk that had clearly been sawed off the end of a butt plug.

Blair was horrified, trying to imagine the Darwin award for this. “ _What_ did you _do_?!”

“I thought it was like the label on a mattress or something!” Simon yelled defensively. “You know, to prove it hadn’t been used or whatever. So I cut it off and trimmed the edges so it wouldn’t be sharp, and now it’s not coming out!”

Blair wiped a disbelieving hand across his mouth. And Jim called _him_ a trouble magnet. “Can’t you, um, wait it out?”

“I _was_ ,” Simon growled. “But then I remembered something Joan told me years ago about tampons, that if you leave something in the body longer than eight hours, you get--”

“Toxic Shock Syndrome,” Blair affirmed, the thread of worry in his voice matching Simon’s. “How long’s it been?”

“Six hours. I can’t go to the hospital, Sandburg; this would be all over the news--”

“It’s all right, Simon,” Blair promised. “We’ll get it out.” _I hope._ He ran through all the most helpful yoga positions for bearing down and finally told Simon, “Okay. Get up on the bed on your knees, and then bend forward until your head touches the mattress.” He virtuously tried not to peek as Simon nervously shrugged off the robe and got on the bed, but there was no doing this without looking.

 _He’d kick my ass for even thinking it,_ Blair thought as he took in the gorgeous scenery presented to him, _but my boss is one edible looking man._ Despite the desk job, Simon was in fighting trim, the muscles in his back and thighs beautifully defined. His flaccid cock and balls hung heavy and low between his legs, and Blair noticed the little bit of public hair he could see was tightly curled in little corkscrews, rather than the tangled undergrowth he was used to.

And there, at the center of this memorable little tableau, was what he’d been looking for; a tiny spot of blue framed by a ring of muscle that clenched it so tightly the anus was pale and quivering with the strain of it. Blair touched it experimentally and the muscles tightened impossibly further, but were still unable to eclipse that flash of blue. _Damn, how big is that thing?_ Blair worried.

“I’m going to need you to relax, Simon.”

“You try relaxing with a bowling ball up your ass that could kill you in two hours!” Simon snapped.

Blair tried to get his fingers inside, but Simon was just too tight. “Okay, promise you’re not going to go all weird on me tomorrow?” Blair asked.

“Sandburg, this could not possibly get any weirder than it already is.”

Blair prayed he would still feel that way a few seconds later, and got up on all fours to reach around Simon and wrap a shaking hand around Simon’s cock.

“Sandburg!” Simon yelped, trying to buck him off.

“You got a better idea of how to make those muscles relax?” Blair pointed out.

‘Not in the mood’ didn’t begin to describe Simon’s state of mind, but Blair drew on every trick in his arsenal, every coil of wrist and flick of thumb he’d ever given or received, and soon the silken shaft began to swell and grow under his care. He briefly wondered at the bizarre picture they must make, with him kneeling, fully clothed in denim and flannel, over Simon’s naked, sweaty form. His jeans were strangling his cock, and he shifted uncomfortably, trying unobtrusively to give it a little room to grow.

While he jerked Simon with one hand, he used the other to begin caressing Simon’s ass, playing fingers across the straining muscle, circling it until the guardian ring began to relax and open itself for more pleasure. Simon didn’t seem to realize that he was rocking slightly, humping the mattress for more stimulation.

“I can feel it,” Simon whispered urgently, “I can feel it moving in and out a little, stroking me inside. God, it’s driving me crazy...”

Blair wished he could see Simon’s erection; it felt impossibly huge and hot in his hand as his fingers danced along its length. But then he felt it, felt the ass surrender to his breeching, and he tried to grasp the thick bulb of the plug.

“Sandburg... please...”

“Almost there,” Blair promised. But Simon had lubed up well before embarking on this idiocy, and Blair only managed to pull the plug out a little ways before it slipped from his grasp and rocked back against Simon’s prostate, wringing a strangled scream from the larger man’s throat. The huge cock jerked and pulsed in his hands, spraying the bed with a thick flood of come as the mixture of fear and pleasure overwhelmed Simon. Blair kept up with the load, wringing the last drops from Simon. Then, rubbing Simon’s back soothingly with one hand, he slid fingers past the spasming ring once more and managed to pull out the plug, grinning triumphantly at Simon’s cry of relief.

“Jesus, no wonder you had problems; this thing is thicker than my wrist!” Blair blurted out.

Simon rolled over to glare at him, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact that Simon was naked, drenched in come, and limp with pleasure.

Or parts of him were, anyway.

Simon’s cock was still half-hard, beautifully shaped and impressively thick. It twitched a little under Blair’s gaze as Simon said, “God, I can almost still feel it inside; I’ll probably be walking funny for a week! Thanks, Sandburg. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Blair ducked his head and said, “Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?” He stood up, trying to avoid attracting attention to himself, but then he felt Simon’s hand hook him by the belt loops.

“You’re hard,” the police captain observed.

Blair felt his face go hot. “Sorry,” he mumbled, expecting to be yelled at and sent on his way.

Simon kept a hold of him for a minute. “You know,” he said, “You’ve seen me in such an embarrassing position and now you get to walk out of here with potential blackmail material. It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

Blair looked down at Simon’s still-hard cock and then up at the predatory gleam in Simon’s eyes and briefly wondered how funny _he_ was going to be walking this week. “Oh, I’m all for fair,” he breathed.

End.


End file.
